Parenting is hard
by SanjiRoronoa
Summary: Being a parent is hard, but Sanji is a good father anyways. AU. I could continue it... I probably will... With yaoi... xD Anyways, it was fun to write! Yay for pancakes!


A low rumbling disrupted Sanji from his paperwork. He looked up through his blonde strands of hair to see nothing less than a small brunette boy looking timidly at the floor all while tugging at the corners of his shirt in shame.

Crap. What time was it? Had he got too distracted by the bills and lost sight of the time?

He glanced at the small clicking clock hanging on the bare gray wall of his tiny, run down apartment.

1:13.

One o'clock? One o'clock. One o'clock... Shouldn't have the kid been fed at twelve while at the daycare center?

The rumbling arose again. The child blushed as he tried to bury his head into his collarbones while stretching his shirt even more.

"Hey hey," he smiled warmly. Sanji got up and walked to the kid. He set his glasses on the table as he walked around his chair to reach the little squirt. "Need something?"

A tear ran down the kid's rosy cheek to the finish line of his fragile jaw and his back stiffened a bit. His lips were turned down in an ashamed pout.

"Daddy," the boy began pulling his head up for a little more than a couple of seconds, "I'm s-so sorry. I- I didn't eat lunch..." He fell to his knees and hugged them sniffing softly.

Within seconds the larger man was crouching on the ground, by his side, rocking him gently.

"No, no. It's alright. I'll whip something up for you right now 'kay?" The boy only nodded in reply. The blonde rose up from his knees though his joints begged and screamed at him not to and held out his hand. He looked towards the kitchen trying to remember what he had in the pantry and fridge. There wasn't much to work with from what he could remember. Would he be able to feed his kid?

A warm, tiny hand tentatively grasped his rough calloused one. They made their way to the kitchen in their small apartment. It only took about fifteen steps from the desk in the tiny living room to reach the even tinier kitchen, though it seemed like it was just the perfect size for two people.

"What do you want, Chop?" The answer was almost immediate.

"Pancakes!"

The blonde smiled. "The sweet ones?" The sprout nodded as he finished counting the ingredients. He had everything to make just that. Thank goodness.

He pulled everything out from there place and set them on the island. Then, strolling to the cupboard, he took the griddle and plugged it into the socket. As it heated he combined all the ingredients.

With those watchful eyes soaking in his every move he felt like he could do anything. Or, well, cook and bake anything. For the owner of those eyes to boot. And... anyone else who was hungry.

He restrained a sigh and mentally shook his head. He gave up on that when he promised that he would provide a functioning life for his boy. He couldn't go chasing a silly little dream.

He poured the ready batter on the now hot, metal surface and waited for the bubbles to form on the top. Once they appeared, he flipped the half cooked pancakes over to finish the job.

The sweet sugary smell wafted through the air. It was perfect. The saliva glands in the sides of his mouth began producing their product but he willed them to stop. Six more hours. Only six left. Then he would eat.

He took his spatula and served the pancakes on a plate in front of the squirt. He waited to hear the clinking of the utensils on porcelain but didn't hear any. When he looked up he met stern chocolate eyes.

"Wha-? Eat your food before it gets cold," he chided, but the strong gaze never faltered. They stared for a while battling with imaginary cannons and guns in their eyes. Sanji knew what the child wanted. But he did not want to give in.

"Eat some wid me," he demanded firmly. The adult simply shook his head.

"Chopper... I ate before I walked home with you. I'm full."

To say the least, Chopper looked unimpressed.

"One bite," he bargained. But the man still refused with a piercing gaze. When his high pitched stern voice didn't work like it usually did the adolescent resorted to his cuteness. "Pwease?" He purposely replaced the L with a W to add cuteness to affect. Sanji knew this because the kid had stopped doing that a little over a year ago.

Soft and begging eyes met the strong baby blues in a losing battle. They both knew what would happen next. It was inevitable. The blue eyed man's will wilted and he caved.

"Fine. One bite." He snatched the fork angrily from Chopper's hand and tore a piece of the sugary fluff to stuff it into his mouth. "Happy?" He asked over the perfectly cooked sweet.

The kid stared at him with the corner of his lips turned down slightly. "No. A bigga piece."

Sanji shook his head. "No can do. You get what you get," he brushed the child's bangs from his face, "and I took a piece. So deal."

It was a bad idea to eat the I sliver of pancake. He could feel his mouth salivate and his stomach crave for more. Hunger clawed at his insides as it threaten to growl. But he mentally screamed at it to keep quiet. He should have held firm and keep with his refusal but who could say no to that concerned pout?

Chopper gave him an unsatisfied look but continued to tear bit by bit at the meal.

It was never silent between them. But today was different. The air was dense and heavy, a dull butter knife could cut through it with ease. It worried him tremendously. He needed to break the tension. An idea came to him.

"Hey, Chopper," he smirked shooting the kid a playful smirk.

"Yeah?"

"Do you know why I call you that? Chopper that is." The child looked mildly baffled at the question, as if trying to decipher what the question meant. When he decided it meant nothing he focused on trying to find the answer.

"No..." he said slow and carefully. "Why?"

The blond man grinned and held out his arms wide. "There was this time that you wouldn't talk to me. A long, long time! A-" He shook his extended limbs to emphasis his point.

"Why?"

"Because you didn't like me. Anyw-"

"Why?" Chopper kept pushing for an answer. Dear god. He's reached that age... The questioning-everything-in-the-world age.

"Because... We ran out of sugar and you were grumpy." His lie was anything but convincing but the child seemed satisfied with the answer.

He sat there unhappily as a thousand more believable lies dashes around creating chaos in his brain.

His arms were getting tired. Why were they up again?

"And...?" Chopper prompted raising his eyebrow to the best of his ability. He probably learned that in daycare. "Why d'ya call me Chopper Daddy?" He giggled. "Did ya... Uh..." It took a while for him to find the right words. "Not remember?" He seemed content with himself and his extensive vocabulary.

The child's giggle zapped Sanji out of his thoughts. "Oh! You weren't talking to me!" He paused and raised his eyebrows playfully. "And don't ask me why!"

Chopper laughed again. "Why?"

"Because we ran out sugar, you forgetful little bug!" He poked the kid. "And one day I was making you some fried rice and I used a onion chopper... And guess what you did?"

The boy calmed from his fit and thought carefully. His hand somehow traveled to his face and pushed against his temple. His face started to redden from the strenuous activity he was doing. Thinking a hard feet for a four year old after all. Even an extremely intelligent one.

Then a look of excitement crossed his features as he looked at his guardian. "The Slap Chop dingy!"

The blue eyed man nodded. "Remember? You called it the Chopper. Than you slapped it so hard it broke. And from then on... I called you Chopper!"

The child nodded happily. "It was supa-MEGA yummy!" Talking about food again reminded the older man of his earlier question.

"Why didn't you eat today?" Chopper looked scared but a yawn cut through his features before he answered.

"I saw... a uh...staff," he set down his fork and began to twiddle his thumbs, "and he was... hungry. So I gave it ta 'im..." He didn't want to get in trouble for admitting but he knew despite every other adult in his life who lied that telling the truth to his daddy would result in the least amount of trouble.

Somehow this sparked curiosity in the older man. "Why didn't anyone else give him food?"

This came easy for the kid though he spoke slower and rubbed his eyes. "No one likes 'im... Dey all dink 'e's scary and mean." The older man smiled at the mispronunciation of the th's and watched the boy as his eyes began to droop. "B-but me and Rika dinks ...dat 'e might... be nice," there was a long pause before he finished his sentence, "...on da inside."

The kid smiled then yawned. It was a bit entertaining to observe the child's head bob up and down while he tried not to fall asleep. He tried to mumble out a few more words before resting his head on the table.

Sanji smiled genuinely. He got up and gingerly lifted Chopper and carried him to his bed where he tucked him in. He took in a minute or two to observe his child.

Dark circles were visible underneath the kids eyes. It was dangerously close to reminding him of... well... Himself. His eyebrows crumpled at the sight of Chopper's hair. It seemed duller than usual and in his forehead there were tiny wrinkled as if the kid had been stressing over something lately.

Suddenly Sanji felt a bit paranoid. Did the little squirt know?

He observed the child carefully as he ate. Tired looking attentive eyes returned the stare. Blue met brown in a battle deducing gazes. It was as if they were both trying to mentally peel one another's layers like onion skins. He didn't like to think that there was even a possibility that the kid knew about their problems. From now on he would be better at keeping this quiet.

He rose from the bed and onto his sore feet. After he left the room he closed the door as silently as he could with the creaky hinges and walk down back to his desk to resume taking care of his problematic bills.


End file.
